SCIEKCE AXr) ERACTICE 


An Address Delivered by Invitation at the Thirty-Second Annual 
Commencement of the School of Mines and Metallurgy of 
the University of Missouri, at Holla, Ma}" 29th. 1903, 

IJY 

RECilS CHAtJVEXET, 

OF DENVER, COLORADO. 



HERALD-DEMOCRAT PRINT, ROLLA, MO. 




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SCIENCE AND PRACTICE. 


An Address Delivered by Hon. Regis Chauvenet at the Thirty- 
Second Annual Commencement of the School of Mines 
and Metallurgy of the University of Missouri^ at Rolla, 

May 29th. 1903. 


“Man is the interpreter of Nature; Scien.ee, the right 
interpretation. ” 

So wrote Dr. William Whewell, and it may be that we 
cannot improve upon the definition of the learned author 
of the “History of the Inductive Sciences.” 

Your attention is called to“day to some of the functions 
of modern science, with a glance at its past history, its in¬ 
fluence as a liberator of human thought, its value in ethical 
and social directions cvnd finally its relation to practice, in 
professional work. 

Our historical retrospect shall be confined to a com¬ 
parison of modes of thought in ancient and modern times— 
to the increasing effect ol scientific discoveries upon pop¬ 
ular ideas, and to the ever decreasing weight of authorit}', 
as contrasted with that of actual investigation. 

Commonest of all objections to the progressive nature 
of science is the very familiar one—“See how many errors 
have been made in the past—see how many theories have 
been overturned. A future age will laugh at our science, 
as we laugh at the outworn theories of long ago. 

This is practically a denial of the possibility of any 
progress—a denial of the capacity of the human race to 
learn even from its errors. But it is also a very grave mis¬ 
conception of what is meant by a theory, at least in the 
modern use and application of that term. 

Let us ask a feW historical questions: We shall find 
that what was called science in ancient times is not what 
would be so called to'day, even popularly. And that— 




2 


please carefully note this' point - -nof merely because we 
know more of observation, experiment and physical forces 
than did those ancestors of ours; that is necessarily true, 
and by no means to the discredit of the ancients; but be- 
cause of a radical change in the very idea of what consti¬ 
tutes science; of what its results signify; of rts import to the 
human race, and finally-—most important of all, of its meth¬ 
ods of investigation. 

Our earliest extant scientific treatises come from 
Greece. They will serve us as well as another field for an 
inquiry as to why early science failed to achieve results of 
importance. Why did Greek Science fail? Dr, Whewell, 
with one of w'hose dicta these remarks were opened, has 
Well indicated that the failure was due neither to lack of 
facts nor to the neglect of them. Nor was it due to a lack 
of ideas. Certainly, as Paul says, the Greeks “desired wis¬ 
dom.” Greek science failed because of a love of mere ver¬ 
balism, which is but another way of saying that they had 
facts and ideas, but could not fit them together. They had 
yet to learn that man cannot read the book of nature at a 
glance. They brought to their work an eager, untamed 
spirit, unchecked by labor, experiment and reverses. Fresh 
from their poetical cosmogonies they propounded doctrines 
fitter for the epic than for any purpose of physical science. 

Here we may once for all consider the difference be¬ 
tween the deductive and inductive methods of progress. 
In deductive reasoning we can have no conclusion that is 
not virtually contained in the premises. In Inductive rea¬ 
soning, a new principle is introduced at every step. Induc¬ 
tion may be stated to be a true colligation of facts by means 
of an appropriate conception. 

Listen to this —pure Greek. 

“The world is perfect, because composed of solid bod¬ 
ies. Solid bodies have three dimensions. Three is a per¬ 
fect number, because: It is the first of numbers, for one is 
unity and is not spoken of as a number, “Two’’ we speak 
of as “both” not “all.” But three we call “all” and it has 
a beginning, a middle and an end. Therefore the world is 


3 


perfect. 

Yes: the Greeks craved to discover the reasons of things, 
but they confused .errand sounding words with general prin¬ 
ciples, and then tried to scrutinize these v^i'inciples by the 
logical processes of the mind alone. Their ideas were 
prettjs but as applied to physical science they had two fatal 
defects; ( i) they were indistinct, ( 2 ) they were inappropri¬ 
ate to the facts. 

The Greeks in fact were highly iiiHuenced hy a mix¬ 
ture of poetry and speculation. The time had not yet ar¬ 
rived for a true integration of scientific ideas. 

Take the queer discussion of the lever from Aristotle, 
He never once touches on “force” as an element of the 
case; never sees, or at least never mentions the gain of pow¬ 
er versus loss of time. There is indeed a little Geometry 
in the discussion, but for the most part it is treated under 
such words as “wonderful”—“less wonderful”—“strange,” 
“common,”—“natural” and “un-natural.”* Time does not 
permit the citation in detail; but the extraordinar}" conclu¬ 
sion is reached that the long arm accomplishes more than 
the short arm, because its motion is “with nature” while 
that of the other arm is “against nature!” 

These indistinct notions stood long in the way of the 
formation of science—for error in the ideas is as fatal to 
progress as error in the facts. We pass to another ten¬ 
dency, which may as completely impede the development 
of knowledge.* 

Ancient science sought in its theories: “Ipse 

dixit” Ahe master has spoken—nothing more can be said. 
Reason and Authority have ever been rivals. The induct¬ 
ive and the dogmatic methods can never agree. Few of us 
realize to what an extent we follow ideas and opinions for 
which we can give no reason. 

Reverence for authority seems to have come from 
Egypt to Greece. Reading the history of human thought 
during the ensuing two thousand years, and noting the ab¬ 
solutism of authority in all matters, we may almost wonder 
how the idea of taking things as we find them ever arose. 


4 


“The square described on the hypotenuse of a rij^ht 
triangle equals the sum of the squares described on the 
other two sides.” The Greeks knew that—but several hun¬ 
dred years before the Greeks knew it, the Chinese knew it, 
in this form, viz: the square on the hypotenuse equals the 
other two squares, provided the ratios of the sides are as 
three, four and five. Thus did an ancient Chinese Geo- 
metrican give it, and this incomplete theorem sufficed the 
Chinese Mathematicians for thousands of years, so fixed 
may the mind of a race become, even in a speciality, when 
once pinned to a mere authoritive dictum. 

But wh} go to China for illustration. Ages ugo, peo¬ 
ple living on plains said the earth was flat. Their descend- 
ents lived on the sea shore, and saw that it was round, for 
ships sank below the horizon in whatever direction they 
sailed. The}' even dared to say that it was round. Ver}' 
promptly were they suppressed—old father Lactantius set¬ 
tled that matter for a thousand years or more. His scorn 
of those holding these heretical opinions is fine, and certain¬ 
ly genuine, but finer still are his reasons for this scorn, viz; 
that this belief is contrary to the belief of the ANCIENTS, 
and is the result of that pernicious evil, which should be 
exterminated if the world is not to be wholly abandoned 
to the devil, of presuming to investigate natural phenomena 
at all. 

Later, as you know, this attitude of mere contempt 
was changed into that of violent opposition, and finally in¬ 
to bitter persecution. 

Now arises the great race of commentatores. The 
world loses the distinction between the learned man and 
the investigator. Originality is too dangerous to be coun¬ 
tenanced, learning is mere reading and comment upon the 
wisdom—supposed to be complete—of those who went be¬ 
fore. 

The reverence for authority, observe, is natural, and 
by no means wholly blameworthy. The attempted control 
by the church, of certain lines of investigation was quite 
logical, once granted that scripture was an infallible auth- 


ority, and haci spoken in matters of Geography and Astron¬ 
omy. On all points not supposed to be thus settled, 
Aristotle’s authority becomes cpiite as apodictical as that of 
scripture. 

The comments took the form from the Greek, of ab¬ 
stract notions, not considerations of experiment. Some¬ 
times the facts were wrong—no matter. Simplicius com¬ 
ments on the j)hysics of Aristotle, and treats of a supposed 
fact, viz: that a vessel full of ashes will hold as much water 
as an empty vessel of the same size. On this point he cites 
twenty-two opinions. Did it ever occur to the great Neo- 
Platonist to try the experiment.? Oh, no. That method 
was to far away from the spirit of his age. 

Thus arose a spirit of mysticism; Astronomy is degrad¬ 
ed into Astrology; Chemistry does not rise above the trans¬ 
mutation idea; the scientist becomes a magician. Dogmat¬ 
ism adds its incubus, learning is reduced almost literally to 
a “back number,” the worship of great names, the eternal 
re-casting of former dicta. 

Of these “Sons of Aristotle” the poet has well sung: 

“They stand, 

Locked u]) together, hand in hand: 

Every one leads as he is led 
The same bare paths they tread, 

And dance like fairies a fantastic round, 

But neither change their motion nor their ground.” 

Ptolemy indeed saw that mere authority must fall if 
truth were to be followed: 

“He who would investigate must first be a freeman in 
his mind— 

But the world was not ready for this solid shot of the 
great Astronomer. 

It was not ready for long afterward. Robert Boyle, 
in the seventeenth century, declares that he is not satisfied 
with any philosophy of Chemistry then current. “How 
can we talk of the nature of elements which we have never 
seen.?” “What is a system without facts to build upon.?” 
But the world was still deaf. Another century opens, and 



6 


we find the greatest chemist of his day talking' of a bus- 
stance which no one has ever seen or felt or weighed, or in 
short proved to exist in any manner whatever. Hypothes¬ 
es were of greater esteem than experiments. 

Method of approach and of investigation then, must-he 
held to be of more importance than mere empiric work. 
Note that the great difference between the old and the new 
is in method. If in this brief review more attention has 
been paid to the negative part, it is because modern meth¬ 
ods belong to our immediate theme; the present function 
of science in the present world of thought. 

In the ethical and social world of today—let us say at 
once, in modern civilization—three forces are universally 
recognized as additive; often as they have been cited, they 
cannot be omitted here: “Toleration in Religion—the 
diffusion of Education the advance in Physical well-be¬ 
ing.” 

For an}' civilization worthy of the name, ideas must 
ever be the living roots. Social and material advantages, 
the fiower and fruit, can come only when the root is plant¬ 
ed in congenial soil, can continue only while the conditions 
for vitality remain. It is often claimed that our civilization 
is too material; that it is indeed “of the earth, earthy,’’and 
many there are who, regarding too closely the technical 
side alone, cry out that Science, hard, practical and skepti¬ 
cal, is, through her countless agents, robbing the world of 
a thousand sweet legends of the past, while substituting for 
tliem only the grosser appliances for physical comfort and 
wealth. 

To secure toleration we must destroy superstition. The 
old method, never brilliantly successful, was to kill off all 
those guilty of it, viz: all those whose views were at vari¬ 
ance with those of the majority. With the rise of modern 
thought came almost unconsciously to each individual, the 
dissipation not only of the shadows of the past, but of all 
ideas of force as a means for the inculcation of ideas. 
Science holds the lamp, but it can be only nature’s truth 
which she illumines, and the laws of nature are the thoughts 


7 


of God. Man}’ have come to see--as all shall see in the fu¬ 
ture—that the lamp of science is kindly, not consuming; 
the lig-ht of a better day, not the ^lare of a comini^ conda- 
j^ration. 

Not by force has the toleration of the present aj^e been 
brought about. Wars have arisen from religious and polit¬ 
ical differences, from greed, from ambition, from fa.rnily 
disputes; we have yet to learn of a war carried on to settle 
a scientific question. 

Instances of how the world has learned the value of 
toleration may be best taken from some of the more famil¬ 
iar cases from the annals of scientific advances. 

Take first the Copernican discover}'. It was a terrible 
doctrine for its age. Nothing decried today as unscriptural 
seems half as dreadful as did the idea that the earth was 
not the center of the physical universe. Nevertheless there 
was a formidable objection in a scientific sense. Even Co¬ 
pernicus himself could not for a long time answer the ques¬ 
tion— “if this is true why do not the stars show an annual 
parallax”.^ Why could not he answer it.** Because neither 
his ideas nor those of his critics were educated up to a space 
concept sufficiently great. Wdien the true answer came, 
viz: that the earth’s motion, vast as it is, is so trivial as 
compared with stellar distances that parallax is inappreci¬ 
able, it seemed incredible to many. But the mind got used 
to this concept at last; and with this had to come the aban¬ 
donment of the notion of this little earth as the center of 
all things material. The space concept is indeed merely 
physical but it demands an extension of ideas so vast that 
in reaching it the mind expanded for the reception of great¬ 
er intellectual truths also. 

Next take the geological discoveries of the eighteenth 
and nineteenth centuries. Here again comes a lack of con- 
ce])t—but now, it is one of time instead of space. The 
changes noted required so much time that the refuge was to 
say that everything had been created exactly as we see it. 
This carried with it the necessity of believing that the very 
fossils were created as such, and required a stretch of the 


8 


intellect, or of the imagination such as to well illustrate the 
little girl’s definition of faith: “Faith,” she said, “is believ¬ 
ing something you know isn’t true.” But at about the 
same time that it was perceived that such views were dis¬ 
honoring to our idea of God, came tiie new time concepts. 
Instead of saying that the space or the time was “incon¬ 
ceivable” or impossible,” men saw that in their puny con¬ 
cepts of early ages they had been setting their own brief 
span of human history against the ages without beginning 
and without end. 

Next the doctrine of the indestructibility of energy, 
and the correlation of forces: We can hardly say which is 
the more remarkable of the phenomena which have accom¬ 
panied this development—the quiet way in which it has 
taken possession of the field, or the universal acceptance it 
has found. Never in all the ages has a natural law been 
developed so consonant with our ideas of immanence. The 
law, we say, works —but laws do not work themselves — 
they are the vehicles of a power: 

“Whose secret presence, through creation’s veins, 
Ilunning, quicksilver like, eludes your pains 
Taking all shapes from Mali to Mahi -and 
Thev change and ])erish all—but He remains.” 

Little need be said of evolutionary doctrines. The re¬ 
cital of the various phases of this controversy is somewhat 
threadbare. Many thousands have come to see that it re- 
jilaces far more teleology than it destro 3 's. Through these 
great laws, and the idea now rapidl}^ taking its place in the 
consciousness of the race, the evolution of the human mind 
—the psychical replacing the physical evolution, we arrive 
at that crowning thought of the continuity of creation, 
which brings science face to face with God. 

Toleration was necessary for such results —and such 
ideas were no small factor in bringing about toleration. In 
dismissing the theme let us cast one backward glance. In 
the historical aspect, individuals are lost—progress alone 
remains. If in this retrospect we discover that our age ac¬ 
cepts numberless scientific dicta once held to be false or 


dangerous; if we see that nothing has been sacrificed, but 
much has been gained, may we not believe that the fears of 
this age are groundless as those of the past, now forever 
dissipated? 

In the second influence which makes for civilization we 
observe that it is not education, but the diffusion of educa¬ 
tion, that calls for attention. This we shall look at from 
this point of view, viz: the part which scientific ideas have 
taken in bringing it about. Education for the few would 
never bring a true civilization. Plato could teach that the 
industrial classes needed no education whatever—^and ivy 
crowned Athens talked eloquently of freedom with her foot 
on the necks of half a million slaves. Yet how modern is 
the idea of general education; few realize, perhaps, how 
recent the belief in the diffusion of even a very moderate 
degree of knowledge. Even today may be found oppo¬ 
nents, whose main argument seems to be that knowledge 
brings discontent. If this is worth anything, even statistic¬ 
ally, it is merely a plea for a stationary civilization. The 
ruins of such may be found the world over, mementos of 
the past and warnings for the future. Chain the locomo" 
tive to the station house, it will never be derailed. Enter 
not a ship, for great are the perils of the sea. But the 
world has answered and said—give us railroads and ships, 
and with all their risks we thank you. Mark, too, that the 
line of even these objectors is no longer stretched at the 
old boundaries. It is a wonderfull}^ short time since the 
idea of workmen who could read seemed preposterous-^ 
nay, dangerous. 

The error of these surviving opponents of popular in¬ 
struction lies in two directions. In one is the supposition 
that the diffusion of education means that all should be ed¬ 
ucated to the same extent and upon the same standards, 
and in the other the notion that education unfits men for 
productive avocations. To the first it is enough to answer 
that it is impossible until all men are created with brains, 
tastes and opportunities alike—geometrical equals in capa¬ 
city, energy and imagination. 


To tlie second history may answ'er; for the objections 
hardly lie as a^rainst elementary topics, universally conced¬ 
ed to be for the benefit of both individnal and coininunitvo 
Yet, but a little while ago the alphabet seemed as danger¬ 
ous to the fearful ones as do now the higher lines of instruc- . 
tion. There is nothing Utopian in the idea that the aver¬ 
age culture of a cornniunity should enable it to answer the 
conclusions of its leading thinkers with an intelligent 
“Amen.” Here is nothing new—but the topic selves to- 
bring out the fact that popular education is largely the pro¬ 
duct of scientific advancement. When Chemistry, Physics- 
and Mechanics late in the eighteenth century began to in¬ 
fuse life into industrial art, some measure of education for 
the majority became a necessity -but not to expand upon 
the infiuences which have led us to demand a greater dif¬ 
fusion of education, we may point out that the popular side 
of that demand has always been for more instruction in el¬ 
ementary science, while on the other liand, it has been the 
Votaries of science and scientific training who have been 
the most eager to popularize their specialties. To this day 
in England the classical is the aristocratic, the scientific the 
popular course—^sure sign that scientific progress, not tlie 
learning of the “schcols”, awoke the present era from its 
mediaeval slumbers. In the second great force, then, we 
allot the major influence to science. 

But now arises a great host who tell us that popular 
education is a failure. Certainly. So is a baby. Have 
patience -don’t kill it. Have faith it will grov/ and de¬ 
velop as it grows. 

, Still, though it is not reasonable to expect great results 
in the very short time during which popular education has 
been tried, we should not cease to ask: “What are the de¬ 
fects of this education, how did they arise, how may the\' 
be remedied?” 

Emerson somewhere says’that nothing astonisiies men 
so much as common sense. President Eliot remarks that 
the finest outcome of popuhir education lie can imagine is 
the development of universal reasonableness. \\T gladly 




a.dopt this and ask, “How did universal unreasonableness 
:arise^how may we best work to replace it by reasonable¬ 
ness?” 

Men continue to be unreasonable because thinking is 
the hardest thing we do- and men prefer not to think for 
themselves, because, through the prevalence during many 
ages of a thinking class and an unthinking class: a class ed¬ 
ucated, according to the standards of its day, and an uned¬ 
ucated class; a party in power, and a party, i. e., the great 
majority of mankind, out of power-thinking did men very 
little good, especially as there were others to doit for them. 
Not easily do we escape from the sins of our forefathers. 
Men have been swayed for ages by traditions, parties and 
prejudices, so that you still hear the expression: “You can’t 
get men to change while hurnan nature remains what it is.” 

The human nature here meant seems to be little more 
than the brute inheritance. And human nature has 
changed. 

Read of some of the doings of our “civilised” ances¬ 
tors: of Richard, the “lion” hearted, cutting off the heads 
of thousands of helpless prisoners: of the Saxons driving 
war chariots Over the bodies of living women, laid in the 
road for that purpose. Horrible as modern war is we ma}^ 
learn that its object, at least, is not murder and rapine. 
War was once a condition -now it is an incident. Theft 
was once a virtue—now it is a crime. Men formerly stole 
or shed blood to acquire property -now they organize a 
trust. The whole population once stood arrayed against 
the material benefits of applied science~*now the opposi¬ 
tion is confined to city councils. 

But how shall we teach reasonableness? Not, I think, 
by putting more science, but far more scientific methods 
into our courses—especially elementary ones. Phenomenal 
is the neglect of our mother tongue in “elementary” educa¬ 
tion. Long Director myself of-a technical institution I tes¬ 
tify that lack of English was the gravest defect in the stu¬ 
dents admitted. Memory is trained; observation and rea¬ 
soning faculties are subordinated by the average course of 


T.2 


fo-day. Most time is ^iven to the least practical of alf 
topics—arithmetic. Once more^method is of more im¬ 
portance than any detail of topics. 

We come last to the achievement of physical well-be¬ 
ing'. Here argument is thrown away—we can but illustrate.- 
It is often said that improvements in well-being- play no 
part in social or ethical considerations. But they do play a 
part, and a g^reat one. Take the single line of sanitation,^ 
and consider its almost incredible improvement. Or, to 
took at the spirit as well as the results, take the congress 
which sat but recently at Berlin to consider and compare 
fnethods for the extirpation of consumption. All afflictions 
Were formerly regarded as ‘"visitations”, which it were al¬ 
most impious to tr}" to stay. Famine, pestilence and con¬ 
flagration were alike “sent of God.” But the strange fal¬ 
lacy that it is wrong to seek natural causes—the blindness, 
not of the eyes, to possible betterment—-these must yield, 
and are yielding, not to force but to light. 

In what direction is science today gaining most recog¬ 
nition from the world of thought.^ In no one more than in 
this—a perception that science must be studied by its own 
means, to its own ends. To-day the progress of truB sci¬ 
entific ideas is so steady that it can be compared onlj with 
that of a boat gliding gently with the current. Keep' your 
eyes open, the widening and closing vistas indicate the 
progress; keep them closed, you are unconscious of motion. 
In the modern world some travel with their eyes open, some 
with eyes closed—what matters it? They are alike carried 
on by the resistless current. 

Dismissing this historical sketch we come to the appli¬ 
cations of science, and the educational methods by which 
they are imparted to the rising generation. Futile would 
be any endeavor to condense all views into the scope of one 
address. Let us take a single line, and try to indicate—it 
will be little more than a trial—^some principles which point 
so far as one experience can demonstrate, to success in 
professional work. 

We often hear the remark: “The leading men in their 



13 


college classes are never heard of afterward; what consti¬ 
tutes success in college has no bearing upon success in prac¬ 
tical affairs.” 

In the opening part of this address stress was laid upon 
the failure of Greek science; it was not lack of ideas, but 
because the Greeks had no correct notion of the ideas ap¬ 
propriate for a given application. Can we find a “modern 
instance” in the failure of a general course to produce prac¬ 
tical rnen.-^ 

Too little distinction has been popularly made between 
the college and the technical school. Seriously I do not 
think that ten per cent, of the American people fully recog¬ 
nize the distinction. There is a fundamental difference be¬ 
tween an institution which provides general culture and in¬ 
cidental science, and one which provides ideas cognate to 
the demands of a particular profession. 

For what shall it profit a man to learn to read Homer, 
if he is then called upon to build a bridge.^ Please note—I 
am a believer in the college education—but that is one 
thing; professional preparation is quite*- another. Nor can 
we grant that the scientific average of college or university 
courses will bear the test of application in the field. 

Applicate Science, to deserve its name, must be incul¬ 
cated by methods truly scientific, and above all, the funda¬ 
mental principles, be they Chemical or Mechanical, must 
be instilled, dwelt upon and developed with a rigor not to 
be found—nay, not justly to be expected, in any institution 
not devoted to preparation for specific lines. Here we may 
find application for what has been said as to the greater im¬ 
portance of fundamenta as against any mass of information 
—even scientific information—of a general nature. Details 
are important, but they lose their significance unless prop¬ 
erly grounded. 

The idea of an institution in which, to quote from Peter 
Cooper, “anybody may learn anything” is attractive. Dur¬ 
ing the period in which it has grown, the department store 
has also arisen. Take care not to go to one with the pur¬ 
pose of buying calico, only to return with a box of ivory 


14 


] 


soap. 

Experience is showin^i^ that the successful technical ed¬ 
ucation lies with the separated technical school, d his in¬ 
stitution is indeed a department of the University of Mis¬ 
souri, but fortunately for its career it is located in a separ¬ 
ate city, and can work out its future lines untrarnineled by 
the mixture of courses, or tlie temptation to its students of 
the allurements of the “partial,” “special,” “elective, or 
other variants. 

A technical department may Nourish in a University 
under certain conditions. Michigan, Missouri and Colorado 
have separated their Mining Schools from the University, 
with or without a nominal connection. That is one condi¬ 
tion. The other, when successful, is the result of wagging' 
the dog by means of his tail—the technical department 
nearl}' absorbing the Universit3% so that the latter is known 
chiedy through the former. 

The theme is limited to the Mining School, that being 
the topic immediately before us. The question “what top¬ 
ics are of the most value in a mining course,” is too much a 
matter of detail for an occasion like the present. Let me 
devote myself, in closing, to a broader question. 

What is the intent of the Mining School.^ Not one of 
the class before me who will not be told, sooner or later, 
that he would have done better to go into the field at once 
and learn the profession by what some are fond of calling 
“hard knocks. ” WTll, young men, most of you will en¬ 
counter knocks in any case T hope not too hard what are 
the best means of providing that the contusions in question 
shall be beneficial rather than damaging.^ 

The student in a technical school -and more es})ecially 
in a mining school is apt to think that direct practice in 
everything that can possibly be taught in the institution will 
most benefit him. He is siqiported in this idea by the opin¬ 
ion of a majority -a majority which is in the wrong, as I 
most sincerely believe, but unfortunately, it has become an 
American custom to believe that an ignorant majorit}'knows 
more than an educated minoritv. 


15 


The important function of the educational institution — 
speaking, of course, of tlie teclinical side, is to prepare its 
students in fundamental principles. Look abroad; seek the 
causes of the numberless stupid blunders made in mining 
and metallurgy. The majority are caused by the unhappy 
combination of total ii^norance on the one side, and lack of 
true fundamenta on the other. 

You will pardon me for relating a very old story; it was 
told, I believe, of one of the Shahs of Persia. Seeing an 
excited crowd in th.e street of his capital, he asked what the 
matter was. “A man has fallen off a hcfuse top, and been 
killed,'’ was the reply. “Wdio was she.^” asked the Shah. 
“It was a man, please your majesty.” “Nonsense,” said 
the Shah, “there was a woman at the bottom of it - who 
was she.?” 

The Shah was ri^ht. The man had been peepin" over 
the parapet at a pretty woman, and had lost his balance. 

Now, when you hear of one of the failures in technical 
enterprise, don’t inquire too minutely about the details of 
the affair itsself. Imitate the old Shah -and although your 
cpiestion will not be exactly “who \^as she,” it will bear a 
close family resemblance to it. Nine times out of ten sheer 
rascality and stock-jobbing aside, these failures are caused 
by a lack of knowledge, not so much of detail as of really 
elementary, or at least fundamental principles. Scientific 
data plus that ingredient in education which I fear no sched¬ 
ule of studies can ever meet —common sense—would, if 
properly applied steer the young engineer away from many 
a breaker. 

There are parts of practice which can be properly in¬ 
cluded in the course of any first-class mining school, and 
which are included. W’e all know what they are; their 
enumeration w'ould be tiresome; but there remains a vast 
practical held which cannot be covered in any course. It 
is not because we overlook the importance of practice, but 
for the reverse reason, that we insist that principles must 
form the basis of the mining and metallurgical course. Let 
us, however, pursue this theme in connection with what 


i6 


follows. 

Thus far, the course—preparation for the profession. 
Let us glance now at the profession itsself. “What shall I 
do hrst.^” asks the young graduate. Though what I have to 
tell you here will not bring me applause, na}’, will strike’ 
you possibly as poor matter to tell you on your “commence¬ 
ment” day, yet, if you will make a note of it, and refer to 
it after say ten years, I earnestly believe you will then say 
“the old man was right.” 

The first thing to say then, is this- “Don’t imagine 
you know much of anything because you have graduated.” 
What do you know, in a practical sense, and with the reser¬ 
vations just made.^ 

“What! Do you mean to say that these 3’oung m^en 
have acquired nothing of practical value to them.^” 

If you ask the question strictly in the present tense— 
Ye-. If all the results of human experience are to be taken 
as signs to follow, then correct theor}" should precede prac¬ 
tice. It would give me pleasure to be able to devise some 
simile less venerable than foundation and superstructure— 
but 3'ou must accept that time-honored figure of speech, in 
lieu of a better. To the students who are still in their 
classes let me say, do not fret over the supposed lack of ac¬ 
tual practical points, as 3"ou conceive them. Pack away all 
the science 3^011 can find room for, remembering that the 
more you get the more room there will be left. 

Many have tried to invert the natural order; I will not 
say that none have ever succeeded, but if they have, their 
structure will resemble some of those remarkable rocks, of 
which we have a few in Colorado, whose mass stands bal¬ 
anced on a point. Some curious accident as to the center 
of gravit3' holds them in position, and so some peculiarity 
of genius and opportunity may enable some men to main¬ 
tain a professional equilibrium with no proper foundation— 
but we all prefer, after admiring these phenomena, to turn 
for a sense of permanent safety to the pyramid which 
stands like those glorious monuments of old Egypt on a 
true and unshakable base. 


17 

But to the practical query: “What shall I do first- 
how shall I make my light to shine before men?” 

Perhaps you will find that your poor little light doesn’t 
shine. Suppose you try to shine for a start, by reflected 
light. If you can secure some connection, however hum¬ 
ble, with some professional light - not too closely regarding 
in your first efforts the compensation, 3 'ou will have done 
well. We cannot cite names—but those of the graduates 
of the Colorado Mining School who have followed this 
course are among those who have achieved the greater 
prominence in the profession. Perhaps nothing is better 
calculated to bring to the graduate’s realization the connec¬ 
tion between theory and application than this second edu¬ 
cation with a practitioner. 

But not every one can secure such a position at the 
outset. Let us, then, suppose the worst, i. e., that you 
cannot get any “position,” so-called, at all, and that you 
haven’t the money to go into business with. Are you able- 
bodied? There is a superintendent of a prominent mine in 
Mexico, a graduate of the Colorado School, who worked 
for three years with his hands—worked, watched, observ¬ 
ed, waited. He worked an air-drill—he timbered. Fire¬ 
man, second engineer, foreman, assistant superintendent— 
now superintendent, and not 3 'et thirt 3 ’. Don t aim too 
high at first, and don’t be afraid to work with your hands— 
don’t think you will lose the respect of anybody worth 3 'our 
while to consider by doing so. 

Master by observation and practice, whenever it comes 
in your way, the erection and working principles of ma¬ 
chines and machineiT -go out of your way, even, to do this, 
and it shall profit you. 

You may often be consulted as to questions not so much 
of practice as of theory. One general piece of advice would 
I tender you here—go slow. If consulted, for instance as 
to the merits of a new metallurgical process, which has not 
yet received the sanction of practitioners, nor the proof of 
actual trial, (and oh, how many there be of this class, )then, 
if you haven’t time to study it up, and yet feel that you re- 


i8 

ally must say something: or lose your reputation, condemn 
it, under the seal of secrecy. The risk you will run is small 
F'orty-nine times out of fifty your “adverse” view will be 
correct, and you will probably be about half right on the 
remaining case. 

More serious is the request for a complete theory of the 
geology of a certain district, to be given off-hand, when you 
know that a month’s work would hardly suffice for a proper 
consideration of the data. Under such conditions try to 
e.xplain the necessity for examination and deliberation. 
Ask for time, in short, and try to leave the neighborhood 
before the time is up. Does this sound trivial to you.^ Re¬ 
member two things then: first, that it is always dangerous 
to give an opinion on a technical point to any one who does 
not thoroughly comprehend the inevitable limitations and 
provisos of such opinions. Second, that you are under no 
obligation to act upon any advice I may give you. But 
these negative warnings lead me to add one more. 

You will need more friends than enemies in establish¬ 
ing your reputations. We have spoken of the men who 
have had practice with little or no theory. Do not disdain 
them, nor belittle, their work. Rather reverence the genius 
which has surmounted the handicap of an insufficient prep¬ 
aration. Do not discuss the relative merits of theory and 
practice—or rather of practice without theoretical founda¬ 
tion, versus practice preceded by such, with men who have 
taken their first steps in the field. No matter how a man— 
to use the current expressions of the day—“got there,” he 
is pretty certain to think that he arrived by the best road. 
Let him think so then. You have nothing to gain, and pos¬ 
sibly something to lose, in too strongly maintaining that 
your road was the better. 

You are about, young men, to enter upon the practice 
of your chosen profession. Hold yourselves always as 
debtors to it. Aim high. This you cannot do unless your 
life work is backed by character. If you seek success in 
the higher sense, never forget that the Engineer is first of 
all a man. 


19 


If you can feel that in your professional life you will 
never dishonor your manhood, have no fears. Prog^ress 
should end only with life—true ambition can never be con¬ 
tent while aspiration lasts. Like the star-eyed Goddess of 
science, whose career I have feebly tried to outline this 
morninp:, look forward, “forever seeking and forever unsat¬ 
isfied.” 








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